There be a time
To thus forget,
Pain would beset
Life’s burden set
To metamorphosis,
All not immune
To melee of egress,
Thru primal stage
Of intrinsic crawling,
Till that of taking flight…
I may have wished
Primordial remains,
Of furry ravager
Held caterpillar
But butterfly be my aim,
Watching from on high
With lepidopteran view,
In wilting summer’s sigh
Sipping morning dew,
The while in reflexion,
Upon world’s progression
Neath a solstice sky,
Life chose I’d be a butterfly!
Poetry on a Canapé 
Love this and love the process of a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. It’s always fascinated me, especially the part where there’s nothing. This is lovely!
I agree! I often wonder if butterflies have memory of their previous existence of if they moved on in the moment, enjoying their new life.
Yes… good question, and one can’t also help wonder, of the magic that gives them the ability, these little delicate beauties, such as the Monarch butterfly who leaves our northern hemisphere, as in Montreal or the townships close by where I live, to winter in Mexico, with some coming back the following summer to brighten our lives. They are wondrous little people, these winged marvels, and most inspirational indeed.
Jean-Jacques
Thank you for liking this one. As you might have noticed I like to write about butterflies, bumblebees, crows etc, our little friends with wings, who intrigue Marianne and I, as they use to say in the valley, to the max.
My words for them come straight from the heart, where they have a permanent home. There are so many feeders and flowers all around the house, that it’s like living in bird-land, without the jazz, but with bird notes (not Charlie’s) but the jazz sounds do live indoors, in this hood. Jean-Jacques
It seems this poem might have provoked a butterfly effect ….with poetry lovers all over the world! And knowing that your favourite town is Lucca…. where Puccini and his Mrs Butterfly happened to be born…I am not surprise Butterflies can populate your poetic imagination.
What can I say, save for a temporary loss of words, not the usual for me, but WOW my dear, yet no surprise your words have that much strength, less one forget your own poetic mind and expressive ‘savoir faire’…
Thank you I’m afraid is rather weak, for so far reaching words, but you know the thanks I mean, the special I keep for you, and the limited edition few who found to call me friend. Jean-Jacques.
Just love this!! It is amazing the way you described the changing caterpillar to butterfly!
There is magic in this poem as there is in all winged creatures. Fragile, impossible things to marvel at and dream upon. ~ Dennis